A Silent Evening
by TheUnfoldingWarmth
Summary: Atticus sits alone on his porch after Jem and Scout have gone to bed to bear witness to some very humorous events unfold all in the view of his front porch. Slightly Atticus/Maudie.


Author's Note: There doesn't appear to be a relationship or any feelings between Atticus and Maudie besides friendship in this story. However, I want my wonderful readers to read between the lines and I know you'll see it.

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A Silent Evening

By: TheUnfoldingWarmth

Darkness had settled over the quiet town of Maycomb. Children had been tucked into their beds, kissed goodnight by their parents, and the lights turned out. The neighborhood was contentedly silent as some took refuge in their living rooms to hear the nightly news on the radio and others enjoyed the warm summer night on their porches. The moon in its crescent form, surrounded by stars, cast its surreal light through the darkness.

Atticus Finch sat alone on his front porch, observing these happenings. He had just completed the usual routine of tucking Jem and Scout into their beds. They would be approaching deep sleep soon. Calpurnia had been taken home and the Finch house was as quiet as the rest of the neighborhood.

Atticus's eyes were drawn across the street to where the soft sound of a record player could be heard on the porch. The moonlight made a pretty garden of azaleas glow in the darkness. The owner of these lovely azaleas could be seen making her usual rounds. Atticus could feel a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth at the sight of her careful scrutiny of her flowerbeds for any weeds or wilted flowers.

Miss Maudie Atkinson finally appeared satisfied. She stood up straight after having her backside in the air for about ten minutes. Her hands went to her hips as she gave her extensive garden a final sweeping glance. The woman seemed quite pleased with her work and was content at last.

Atticus watched her pull off her gardening gloves as she ascended her porch steps. She tossed them with a casual flick of her wrist into a chair before taking the large oak rocking chair all to herself. On the small table next to her was her record player emitting soothing, soft jazz music with a French female singer's lovely voice gentling the evening even more. She picked up her glass of ice tea and took a drink; the glass winked in the moonlight.

The sound of a screen door slamming made Atticus looked away from the amusing widow across the street. Mr. Avery stalked out onto his porch and sat himself down in a chair. Atticus could hear the chair creak under the man's weight from down the street.

"Evening, Avery!" Maudie called.

Now, she'd done it.

"Don't holler at me, woman! If you wanna say hello, you come over here and do it politely. I came out here for some peace and quiet and I got you yellin' down the street in the middle of the night."

"It's not even nine o'clock, old man!" Maudie yelled again. "Don't get your panties in a twist."

"My _panties_!" Mr. Avery said, heaving himself out of his chair and hurrying down off his porch.

Atticus watched with increasing amusement as Mr. Avery waddled over to Miss Maudie's lawn, his enormous potbelly jiggling like jelly. He was heaving with a cigarette in his mouth. With each strangled breath he took, Atticus could see the end of the cigarette light up red and then fade as Avery puffed out a cloud of smoke in a slight wheeze.

"_My panties, _woman!_"_ Mr. Avery wheezed out once he arrived at Maudie's front porch.

"Yes, your _panties, _Avery," Maudie said coolly. "Good Lord, you're getting deaf in your old age."

"You ain't the youngest filly out of the starting gate, yourself, Miss Priss!" And with that, Avery took a long drag of his cigarette and tossed it with an easy flick into Maudie's azaleas.

Atticus waited for all hell to burst forth from its gates. Maudie let out a cry of shock that was almost a scream of terror. Avery backed up quickly when she came flying down off her porch to pick the cigarette butt out of her flowerbed before she chucked it at him and began to chase him down the street.

"Why, you _horrid_ man! You've crossed a line, sir. You better stay clear of my garden, you hear? Or I'll have Sheriff Tate down here on accounts of trespassing and vandalism!"

Atticus felt the chuckle leak from him. His amusement was like a fuse and Avery's and Maudie's humorous actions were the flame. A deep, rumbling laughter emitted from deep in his chest at the sight of it all. Maudie chased Avery all the way up the steps of his porch until he slammed and locked his door in her face. Maudie was cut off in mid-tirade. She had her hand raised and her finger pointed at Avery's door, but she lowered it with a jerk.

"I ain't through with you yet, Avery! I've got a temper on me that'll put the devil to shame, you mark my words," she swore.

Atticus almost called out the fact that all of Maycomb believed her, but held his tongue as she stormed back to her house.

"Stop laughing, Atticus, or I'll have your head on a spit, too," she called out to him before she disappeared into her house, slamming the door behind her.

Atticus was met with a silent evening once more. Maudie's record player on her porch had long since stopped playing, but he couldn't manage to remove the smile on his face.

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A/N: I was listening to Edith Piaf while writing this, can you tell? "her record player emitting soothing, soft jazz music with a French female singer's lovely voice gentling the evening even more..." Well, as usual, thanks for stopping by and reading. Review if you like! Or favorite, I always like those, too. Let's me know when people really like my stories, but don't really have any words to say. That's just as good.


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